The Names of Innocence
by Deb3
Summary: Horatio introspects about the people in his life and on the case after Innocent


Title: The Names of Innocence  
  
Disclaimer: They're still not mine.  
  
Pairing: H/everybody, H/C  
  
Rating: PG  
  
His hand fell to his side, the wave dying abruptly. Its recipient was no longer looking as the car pulled away. Yelina and Stetler, off for their weekend. Horatio turned back to his probable date for the weekend, as it was for most weekends. CSI.  
  
As the elevator ascended, his mind followed the car's occupants out onto the street. Yelina. At times, Horatio felt like he was dealing with a child. As much, if not more so, than Ray Jr. Ray's eyes had already started to lose their pure innocence since the death of his father. In spite of Horatio's efforts, the boy's world had its dark edges now, the taunts of others at school, the stress of being left with only one parent, and that one's attention increasingly divided, though she never knowingly turned away from him. Still, he knew, and his eyes weighed the world he saw hesitantly, no longer sure that he wanted to grow up, beginning to fear that he would not have a choice in the matter. The boy hesitated, but he did not turn away from the daunting prospect, and Horatio more and more often thought of his brother when he looked at his nephew. As he had said once, for all his faults, Ray had not been a coward. Neither was his son. Horatio saluted his courage, even as he tried to keep the boy's journey out of innocence from being any more abrupt than fate had already dictated it must be.  
  
Yelina. Hers was a different innocence, the innocence of denial, all the more adamant because she knew the truth on some level far too deeply to admit even to herself. The truth about Madison, the truth about Horatio, the truth about herself. Maybe even the truth about Stetler, though Horatio doubted that. Stetler had no innocence in him, and Yelina still hadn't realized that. Simple, she called him. She was in a chess game with a master, and she hadn't even recognized the game, much less that she was a pawn, not a queen. Still, she did deserve to be happy. Horatio would watch Stetler carefully, but as long as Yelina could keep her illusions, she would be happy in them. Horatio would protect that innocence as long as he could, knowing deep down that he would fail. Eventually. And then he would be there to help pick up the pieces when her illusions finally shattered, if she would let him. Perhaps she would turn away to build more. He could not decide for her, but he could be there, as much as she would allow, though not as she dreamed. She was his family, but only his family. For Horatio, that wasn't a limitation. For Yelina, it was. Maybe someday, she would turn from the illusion to accept the reality.  
  
He passed Eric in the lab. His team member looked up and flashed his boss a blinding smile of gratitude, still exulting in his newly declared innocence. The accident was officially not his fault. He had known, but still, the official clearance mattered. Eric. Total passion and dedication. A heart of gold, somehow not yet tarnished by the world. Determined to make a difference, yet with the innocence of believing that things weren't his fault mostly intact. Horatio had lost that innocence long ago. Too many things had been his fault, to his eyes. He returned Eric's smile, seeing himself in younger days. He hoped that Eric always kept that innocence of self-satisfaction, but he doubted it. As with Ray Jr., the world would intervene. And unlike Yelina, Eric would not dodge reality.  
  
Horatio arrived in the morgue. Deathly quiet. His lips twisted in a sardonic half-smile at the appropriateness of the thought. Alexx was nowhere to be seen, and he was glad. She would hover and try to reassure him, and he did not want to be reassured at the moment. He wanted to mourn, to experience fully the bitter sense of a life lost. The victim deserved that. Horatio knelt in front of the drawer and stared at the name card, slowly drawing a similar but not identical one, already prepared, from his pocket. He held the new card up to the other. Ashley. Kathleen. Only a child, really, taken advantage of by the world. She had tried to protect herself by splitting in two, creating an illusion, another persona, so that deep down, she could tell herself with some small truth that it was not her. Like Yelina's illusions were doomed to, the illusion of Ashley had shattered. Unlike Yelina's illusions, which retained some element of privacy, Ashley, under the skillful management of the businessman, had become an entire false world that lured in thousands of others, seeking their own illusions. It had destroyed her. And in the end, it reached past the illusion to reality and also destroyed Kathleen. Horatio wondered when Kathleen had died. Had it been that night at the hands of her deluded fan, or had it been years ago? He slid the name card into place over the other, replacing the illusion with the reality. Both were dead, but it was Kathleen he would mourn. The loss of innocence, a life destroyed by the world. A life, like so many others, that he had not been able to save, only to avenge. Horatio bowed his head and leaned his forehead against the drawer, feeling the coldness, wanting to make himself feel it. "Rest in peace, Kathleen," he said aloud. "I'm sorry." He was apologizing not just for himself, but for the world that had destroyed her. Sometimes, he wondered if there was any hope.  
  
Calleigh. Her name flashed across his mind unbidden like a lighthouse to keep him off the rocks of despair. Beneath his forehead, the metal of the drawer warmed, conducting the heat of life as his thoughts turned to her. Calleigh's was an entirely different kind of innocence. Not naïve, like Yelina, not young, like Ray Jr., not an illusion, like Ashley. She had the mature yet ageless innocence that unflinchingly faces the darkness and calls it by name, yet still reaches for the light, absolutely certain that it is stronger. Calleigh did not turn away from experiences, like Yelina; she came through them with the golden sunlight of her soul intact. Reassuring. Revitalizing. Yes, she revitalized him, breathed life back into his jaded spirit when it was growing weary. Calleigh. It was like all the other good he had known in life, all the light and love and hope, was a print, a copy of a piece of art, and she was the original. More vivid. More passionate. More vibrant. More alive. Horatio straightened up from the drawer, love giving him strength again. Yes, love. He was starting to admit it to himself lately. Someday soon, he would admit it to her. He had hesitated, questioning not her but himself, his worthiness to hold such a masterpiece. But she was winning him over with her own mirrored tentativeness, her own appreciation, her own revitalization when she was around him. They were the masterpiece together. Unbelievable, that he had a part, but he was actually starting to believe it. Someday soon, he thought. Forgive me for being a coward these years, Calleigh, but I had to make sure it wasn't an illusion. Horatio's whole being shied from illusions. Around her, though, innocence and passion and pure chemistry were refreshingly real. He was finding himself anew with her, rediscovering his own lost innocence, relearning trust, beginning to yield to the sweeping fire of passion with a true soulmate.  
  
The urgent electronic summons interrupted his reverie, and he glanced at the small screen. Dispatch. With a sigh, he collected his thoughts and his professionalism and stood up, turning away from Kathleen to head back out into the world.  
  
She was waiting by the patient elevator, holding the door open with her hand but not entering. "What are you waiting for?" he called as he approached.  
  
She had to tilt her head up slightly to meet his eyes, even though he tilted his down to encounter her halfway. "You. Are you okay?" He did not ask how she knew, or how much she knew. He simply smiled at her, a totally different smile than he had given earlier to Eric or, in fact, than he gave to anyone else. Calleigh, standing there waiting to check on him. The one person who would ask. The one person to whom he would grant an increasingly honest answer.  
  
"I am now," he said simply, as he had once before. As she had then, she accepted the statement but with a sweeping glance that saw clear through his soul. It still frightened him how much she saw, but not as badly as it once had.  
  
"Let's go then." She entered the elevator, knowing that he would never precede her through the door. Side by side, they settled against the back wall as the doors slid closed. "Do you know anything on this new case yet?"  
  
His lips twisted sardonically. "Just that it's a murder. Down under the pier. Another life gone."  
  
She shook her head, sharing his thoughts and his passionate fury. "Some things never change."  
  
Passionate fury suddenly, for one brief second, retreated into mere passion. "Maybe some things should," Horatio replied silkily, his head turning slightly, the emphasis in tone clearly offering the double meaning as his eyes weighed her reaction.  
  
Calleigh looked back at him, startled at first, then swept helplessly away by her own flood of feeling. No hesitation any longer, just acceptance and anticipation. She searched for words, but her body was already moving, replying for her. Even as she embraced him fiercely, though, the elevator bumped to a stop, and the doors slid open. Horatio and Calleigh split apart quickly, but no one had seen. "Later," he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her with the promise.  
  
"Later," she confirmed, her eyes shining with love but already focused on the waiting Hummer where Eric and Speed were loading equipment.  
  
Together, Horatio and Calleigh walked across the garage to join the team and head out on another case. 


End file.
